


Lost.

by titieli



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, F/M, Heavy Angst, Major character death - Freeform, Stydia, Stydia Week, Tragic Romance, lydia martin - Freeform, stiles stilinski - Freeform, stydia angst, stydia shippers club, stydia-fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titieli/pseuds/titieli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia has died and Stiles' the first to find out. When Scott asks what's happened, Stiles can only manage 'I'm going out of my freaking mind.' Prompt given to me by stydia-fanfiction tumblr. AU-ish, major character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost.

**Author's Note:**

> This propmt was given to me by the amazing stydia-fanfiction page on tumblr. They're also on here, so go find them! Anyway, I love prompt so if you'd send me a few I'd love you all forever and ever. Send them to my fandom blog; rhaenastark. Thanks for reading! Ily.

**Lost.**

It had been three weeks. Three long weeks since all Lydia had been was a slightly cold body lying on a bed in a comatose state. The doctors had told him it was just a matter of time now, Lydia kept crashing and there really was nothing for them to do anymore. At first, the pack had visited every day, even Isaac, until what Lydia’s cold hospital room represented became too real for them. They had all survived so much, _Lydia_ had survived so much, from crazed alphas, to wild misdirected kanimas and evil kitsunes, one would think such a mundane thing as a car crash wouldn’t be enough to take one of them down. But it happened. They had lost Allison last year, and they would lose Lydia now. Stiles couldn’t stand it. Stiles couldn’t do this. He simply could _not_ see her there in the white bed with purple lips and deep bags under her eyes, eyelids so pale he could see every single one of the veins in them. Her beautiful strawberry-blonde hair was ashen and no longer shined; she was bandaged head-to-toe. But no matter how hard it was for Stiles, he wouldn’t leave the side of her bed. He refused to accept that she wouldn’t wake up and he planned on being the first one Lydia saw when she did. Since they had all gotten the call from Lydia’s mom and the doctors had said it was all right for them to visit her, Stiles had been right there, her hand firmly in his with his thumb stroking her palm, urging her to open her eyes. But she hadn’t and everyday he saw how she slowly went from simply banged up to nearly dead.

Stiles had been an idiot. This had all been his fault. He wasted half the year with Malia and then missed his chance with Lydia, sending her on her way and actually signing her death sentence.  She had arrived at his house, long wavy hair atop her head in a messy bun and barely any make-up on. Stiles had known immediately something was wrong, she had clearly rushed there, and ushered her inside.

“I really need to tell you something.” She had given him one of those thin-lipped smiles that he knew were reserved for him, or at least had always thought.

They sat together on his living room’s couch, with his undivided attention on her face. Her eyes had been wide and had a nervous glint to them. She had been shy. Stiles Stilinski could count in one hand the amount of times he had seen Lydia Martin become shy under his gaze. And they had all happened in the last year or so. And then she’d talked. With some difficulty at first, only to end up doing something Stiles himself was very good at: rambling.

“Lydia! Just tell me, okay?” Stiles had asked, bobbing one leg up and down.

She had. Lydia Martin actually told him she liked him. It’d started to be more than like, in truth. She hadn’t said anything because Stiles was with Malia and she couldn’t just stop him from being happy, but she couldn’t keep lying. Not if they were all in danger because of that list, not if it meant they could all probably be hunted to death. And what had Stiles done? He had panicked. He ranted about things that he couldn’t even remember now and practically told her to leave. And that brought them here. Lydia’s mom had approached him this morning with teary eyes, one of her hands to his shoulder, and had explained how Lydia’s body was too damaged to go on.

“It’s just a matter of time now.” She had cried with a shaky voice before walking out of the room to her husband.

Stiles was now leaning on his laced fingers with his elbows on the bed, brown eyes trained on Lydia. All of her. He remembered back in the fourth grade, when he’d realized Lydia’s hair wasn’t exactly red but it wasn’t blonde either. He spent weeks trying to figure it out and then he stumbled upon the term ‘strawberry blonde’ and it had fitted her perfectly. But now that strawberry blonde hair was just a dull red, no blonde shine to it at all. Lydia’s face was so pale her small freckles looked like grey spots splattered around her cheeks. He pressed his nose to his fists, averting his eyes down. He couldn’t do this. Stiles Stilinski could not live without Lydia Martin. Not now, not in the past and definitely not for the rest of his life.

“Lydia…” he mumbled, not for the first time. “Lydia—just… just come back.” Stiles cleared his throat, trying to talk through the knot that stopped his voice from coming out or the air from coming in right. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you since the third grade and that’s not about to change,”—he shook his head, moving both his legs up and down to stop himself from letting the tears blur his vision completely.—“so you have to come back, Lyds.”

There were no changes with Lydia but Stiles didn’t give up. He wiped at his nose and sat up a little bit straighter. Lydia would wake up, she had to.

“We all need you. Your parents need you … the pack does too. I—I need you, Lydia.”

His voice trembled and he had to press the back of his hand to his mouth to stop himself from crying.  This wasn’t working. Lydia was still unconscious, her breathing was still shallow and her heart rate just got weaker and weaker. She would leave. She would leave and he would still be here, barely living.  And she was in pain, pain Stiles couldn’t take away. He just wanted her to be okay and he knew what he had to do. Stiles got up on shaky legs and got closer to Lydia, leaning into the bed so he was close to her.

“Goodbye, Lydia.” He whispered, giving her a kiss on the forehead. A tear escaped him but he didn’t bother with it.

It was a few minutes later when Lydia’s heart finally gave up. Many doctors and nurses rushed in, forcing a distressed Stiles outside before closing the door. He hoped they would come out and tell him Lydia was alive and well. But it didn’t happen. Lydia was gone forever. Stiles felt like the ground had crumbled under him and left him lost in an unknown world where the sun didn’t shine. He didn’t stay around after that. The first place he went to was Scott’s. Stiles didn’t remember how he got there, though, all he remembered was Lydia. Lydia in the cream dress when he took her to the dance, Lydia ice-skating like a professional, Lydia hanging out in his room many times, Lydia kissing him, Lydia weak and hurt in a hospital bed, Lydia dead. Lydia, Lydia, Lydia. All he could see was strawberry blonde hair and green eyes.

Scott answered the door right away and Stiles got ready to tell his best friend Lydia was dead, but the more he thought about it the less he could breathe.

“Stiles, what happened?” Scott asked quickly, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

What happened? What happened was that Lydia was dead, she was dead and gone and Stiles was still here without her. And he couldn’t breathe. How was he going to be without her? Without his beautiful petite strawberry-blonde know-it-all? Who would help him figure things out? Who would be nearly as sarcastic as he was? No one, no one, no one.

“Stiles?” Scott asked once he realized his best friend was probably near a break down.  “Stiles? Stiles, what happened?” he repeated, even if he was suspecting the worse.

“I’m going out of my freaking mind.” Stiles managed with a stifled sob.

It took Scott two seconds to realize what that mean; Lydia had passed. He pulled Stiles in a tight hug and it wasn’t much before Stiles finally cried. Scott could only think of holding him tighter, trying to comfort him as he himself cried over another lost member of his pack. He knew his pain was nothing compared to Stiles’, though. Scott had also lost the love of his life once and he knew how bad it felt. None of the boys knew how long it passed before Stiles calmed down. It was still hard to breathe and he knew the pain wasn’t going anywhere, but he felt somehow relieved from the pressure in his chest.

“At least… at least, Lydia’s with Allison now.” Scott commented. “She’ll take care of Lydia now.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded, scratching at his nose with the back of his hand.

They sat in comforting silence for the rest of the night, unaware that both girls were looking down at them with sad smiles on their faces. Their boys were sad now but they were also strong, they’d be okay.


End file.
